Real Dads Drive Vans
by NikitaDreams
Summary: Silly idea inspired by a pic of Paul with a van. Brian-centric one shot. Takes place 5 yrs after Furious 6 - lead up to 7. Brian has become a family man, but has he really left his old ways behind? A bit silly :) Family-centered.


Author's Note: I don't know. I blame Karikocha and MiaToretto86 for this short. It's a one-shot, Brian centered. Takes place 5 years after Furious 6. This was spurned by the idea of Brian driving a minivan after they settle down… and the ridiculous idea of him having to lose a tail while driving it. So yeah. Silliness.

_Real Dads Drive Vans_

It was the hardest job he'd ever done.

Up at 6:30 am, showered, shaved, dressed, breakfast and coffee, a relaxing ten minutes with the paper if he was lucky. A chattering 5 year old boy making a mess with his waffles, Mia at the counter packing lunch and issuing orders. It was like being stuck in some 50's television show about family life.

His cell phone beeping as a text came in had him changing his mind.

Like a 2000's television show about family life.

He blinked at the picture of two sexy ladies posing in an oversized bed and rolled his eyes. Roman. Always thought he was rubbing his amazing single life in Brian's face.

They just had different things they wanted out of life. That was all.

Deleting the picture, Brian dropped his empty plate into the dishwasher, kissing Mia.

"Jack, get your stuff together," he told his son. "We're leaving in ten minutes."

"Let me check your backpack," Mia told her son, who scurried off to do her bidding. She looked at Brian. "I still can't believe he's in kindergarten already," she muttered.

"He's been in kinder for half a year," he said with a laugh. "Besides, at least it frees up your time a little."

"I guess. I just feel lost without him in the house."

The boy returned, dragging along his race car backpack, which he passed to his mother.

Mia unzipped it, rifled inside through books and folders, tucked a lunchbox and a water bottle in it, then zipped it back up.

"Shoes," she pointed to Jack's socked feet and he ran off again.

When he returned it was with his little beige work boots and Brian shook his head, before kneeling to lace them up. "Wants to be just like Uncle Dom," he murmured.

Jack grinned and jumped up. "Can we go to the garage after school?" he asked.

"We'll see," his mother said, leaning down to hug him. "Be good for your teacher."

Jack hugged her back, smiling sunnily before he ran out the door, Brian following behind him. Brian sighed as he surveyed the vehicle. Blue, shiny… as sleek as a damn school bus.

The minivan had been Mia's idea. Roomie, great for road trips, and the pile of baby crap she insisted Jack needed whenever they did travel. He wouldn't have used it, but his current car was a sporty two-seater, and Mia wouldn't let Jack ride in it. The minivan was "safer", no matter that it had a rollover warning pasted to the fold-down sun-shade.

He did what he could with it, tuning it up, putting in a better engine, modifying the exhaust. It ran like a sports car. Well... like a sports car trapped in a bulky body.

And of course, Dom, Letty, Roman and Tej gave him hell whenever they saw him driving it.

Jack pushed the button on the side to slide open the back door and climbed in, dropping his backpack on the floor as he clambered into his booster seat. Brian checked to make sure he was buckled in, then went around to the driver's side.

The trip to Jack's school was uneventful, Jack talking excitedly about his teacher and about his classmates. But a few times, Brian caught a sight of a grey car with blacked-out windows some distance behind him.

He checked again when he pulled up at the school alongside the scores of other parents in minivans and SUVs, but the grey car was gone. Frowning, Brian shifted into park and got out to make sure Jack got safely into school. He hugged him farewell and watched him disappear through the doors with the other children before returning to the minivan.

His cell phone was ringing as he pulled back out into the street and Brian glanced at it. It was Dom, probably calling from the shop to see how long he'd be. He answered.

"I'm on my way," he said.

"Brian, we got a problem." Dom's voice was somber. "Han's been killed."

Shock poured through him, and Brian's eyes drifted to the rearview mirror. The grey car was back. "What happened?" he asked.

"Car ran him off the road. I got a call… Shaw's brother. Seems like he's out for revenge."

"So that means we're all on his list," Brian replied, setting his jaw. "And I think I've got a tail."

"Lose them and meet us at the warehouse on fifth. The garage is too high profile. Bring Mia."

"I'm in the fucking van," Brian complained. "Lose the tail…"

"Guess it's time to test your driving skills," Dom almost sound like he chuckled, briefly, then he hung up and Brian was tossing his cell phone aside with a curse as he slammed his foot on the gas.

The van's modified engine roared as it lurched forward. Brian wove throughout the traffic, between cars and SUVs and trucks. The grey car followed and he narrowed his eyes, swinging left across two lanes and onto the service. Cars blared their horns at him but he ignored it, keeping his gaze on the grey car as it pulled the same maneuver.

Rush hour LA traffic was bad, so Brian avoided the highways and major roads. He pulled a sharp turn onto a side street, tires squealing and he leaned to the side as the van lifted up onto only two wheels for a brief moment of time suspended in slow motion before the van slammed back down on all four wheels and peeled down the road. He gunned the engine, roaring past a school bus with its stop sign up, wincing internally. The grey car sped after him. Brian took another left, faster this time, and the van fought to keep its wheels on the ground, dragging black marks across the asphalt.

Gunshots rang out, pinged against the side of his van, against the cars he was driving past. Brian cursed, spotted a narrow alleyway between two buildings and yanked the wheel. The side of the van slammed into one of the buildings, ripping off the driver's side mirror. Brian yanked the wheel again to try and straighten it out. He bowled over a set of old trash cans, knocking them out into the street. Turning the wheel hard again he came out onto another street, cutting off a car, which honked loudly at him, but put some space between him and his pursuit.

He sped ahead, then cursed the damn minivan as he approached a traffic circle. Brian laid on the horn as he drove straight through the center, bumping hard over the concrete dividers, banging his fender with a loud slam and scrape. Cars around him slammed on their brakes, or turned out of his way, crashing into one another.

He grit his teeth and took a sharp turn down a side street, one last glance at his rearview mirror. The cluster of cars clogging the circle had halted his tail, which was pulling a U-turn.

Brian slammed on the gas, speeding down the block, then took another turn. He wove and sped through the neighborhood, blowing through stop signs, until he was certain he'd lost the tail, then he took the back way home to pick up Mia.

The van was a wreck, his heart was pounding under his ribcage, and the rush of adrenaline was fading as reality set in.

Han was dead.

They were all in danger.

They'd been cleared. They'd come home. They'd started over. All of them. And now it was all in danger. Five years later.

It was time to retire the minivan.


End file.
